What Should Have Happened in 'Death is in the Air'
by Miss Basset
Summary: The final scenes from 'Death is in the Air' changed around so that Lassie is the one who ends up in a hospital bed instead of Jules. Shassie.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Alternate Scenes From 'Death is in the Air'

**Author**: Basset

**Summary**: The final scenes from 'Death is in the Air' changed around so that Lassie is the one who ends up in a hospital bed instead of Jules. Shassie

**Genre**: Hurt/Comfort/Romance

**Paring(s)**: Shassie

**Warning(s)**: Spoilers for 'Death is in the Air'

**Author's Note:** So, I watched 'Death is in the Air' yesterday, and decided I would help the writers out again by changing their story to Shassie instead of Shules. Because we all know that this was really what they meant to write.  
And OMG! You have got to go to the Psych official website and look at the pictures of 'Death is in the Air'. There are about 4 pictures of Lassie when he had to be in the shower and after. EEEP! *hyperventilates*

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Psych or any of its characters. And I did watch the end of this episode over and over to try and catch exactly what the characters say. So about half of the dialogue is also from the show.

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**At The Old Hospital -Lassie's POV-**

"Look Spencer, would you mind letting me know why the hell I'm here?" I really was in no mood to mess around with the fake psychic, and O'hara had gone back to the police station to try and round up even more police officers to track down Mallon, leaving me to follow Spencer and Guster. My job was too much like babysitting at times.

Glancing my way, Spencer make a few shushing motions before walking quietly towards the glass window that separated the room we were in with the next one. I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again after hearing a noise. Someone else was here, making quite the racket.

"What the hell?" I muttered, creeping a bit closer and subconsciously placing a hand on Spencer's shoulder. I couldn't quiet make out who it was on the other side of the glass, but from the way the man has hurriedly going though the different bottles of vaccines, I had a hunch it was Mallon. Why did Spencer always have to be right?

Glancing over at me Spencer shot me a small smile before standing up straight and grabbing the small bottle of the cure out of his pocket. Was he insane? Why wouldn't he just let me shoot this creep? It'd be much easier. But before I could voice my thoughts, he was speaking. I chose not to try and figure out how he had gotten the vaccine before Mallon had entered the building. That could wait till later.

"Looking for this? It's the last of your cure. It's the reason you came back to the hospital, isn't it? You've been self medicated but your still infected because you didn't realize how much of this stuff it takes to fight your little virus." I had to hand it to Spencer, he had guts.

Mallon looked shocked as he quickly whipped around and noticed the small bottle in Spencer's hand. "Give it to me. Now!" he commanded, taking a small step forward before stumbling a bit.

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. We know everything you did man. You did all of this to save your lab." Spencer replied, staying oddly calm. How did he do that? I shot a look over to Guster, not surprised to see an equal amount of surprise mixed with awe on the pharmaceutical rep's face. Even after years of knowing Spencer even Guster was surprised at times.

"That wasn't why. When they shut me down they left you and me and the entire nation wide open. Do you know how easily this stuff can be turned into a weapon? But now, after this, we'll be ready." A fit of coughs suddenly came over Mallon and the man leaned up against the nearest table for support.

At the explanation I snorted. Did Mallon really expect us to believe him? He had already turned it into a weapon and the whole nations was at risk because he couldn't handle being without a job. I glanced over at Spencer and Guster, expecting to see the same amount of amusement in their faces, but I was disappointed. Both of the other men seemed to believe Mallon's story.

"Wow. That's not your garden variety crazy person logic." Guster commented, shrugging slightly. More and more I felt like I was surrounded by idiots. But before I could voice my opinion, Spencer had begun to talk again.

Spencer glanced over at me for a fraction of a second before turning back to Mallon. "I'll tell you what. I'll make you a trade. The cure for the last vial of the virus."

I snorted again. Like that perp would really hand over his only bargaining took just like that. But yet again I was shocked when the man rushed over to the cooler that contained his final vial of Thornburg. How did Spencer make criminals trust and obey him so easily?

After a few minutes of stumbling around Mallon made his way over to the glass window and held up the cooler. "Let me see it." he managed to say, sounding completely out of breath.

Spencer nodded and reached for the little door connecting the two rooms. "Same time."

I watched in shock as Mallon and Spencer opened the doors and stuck their hands inside, pushing their bargaining chip to the other. As Spencer reached for the cooler he muttered "Don't touch me man." before grabbing it and quickly withdrawing his hand.

"Spencer." I muttered, grabbing the small red and white cooler from the man's hand. I rushed over to another table, opening the cooler slowly, trying to see if the vial was indeed inside. A sigh escaped my lips as soon as I saw the small container. It was going to be alright.

Spencer glanced over at me before returning his eyes to Mallon. "Is it there?" he asked, watching the criminal search through drawers trying to find a needle without much success.

I hadn't noticed that the vial was broken and when I reached into the cooler I felt a sharp pain in my finger that was closest to my pinky, whatever its real name is. I drew in a sharp breath and a loud "Ow" escaped my lips. Bringing my finger closer to my eyes, I saw that the vial had indeed cut it, and it was bleeding quite a lot. I wasn't really all that surprised, I should have been more careful, I had only had a thin set of gloves on after all.

Hearing my cry, Spencer whipped around, concern written all over his face. "Lassie, what's going on?" he asked, taking a few steps closer to me.

I held up my bleeding finger, my eyes not leaving Spencer's for a second. "Shawn, don't come any closer." I didn't realize that I had let his first name slip, I was too busy trying to accept the fact that within a day I would most likely die.

It seemed that Shawn and I stood staring at each other for eternity, but he quickly turned around and rushed up to the glass. "Hey! Give me that medicine back! Give it to me now!"

Mallon was still searching for a needle, but anyone could tell that it was getting incredibly difficult say anything, let alone stand up. Not that he was really standing up, it was more like hanging onto the nearest table for dear life than anything else. "Idiot! There isn't enough here to help anybody!"

Shawn looked at me again, panic evident in his eyes. "Well, there's gotta be more somewhere. Just tell me how. I can save you both!" His voice was becoming louder after every word.

I knew it would be no use, both me and Mallon would die. I almost told Spencer this, but Mallon beat me again. I just couldn't say anything today, someone was always interrupting me. I chuckled slightly at the fact that even when I was dieing people still didn't really listen to me. Well, the people that counted wouldn't listen.

"Victoria." Mallon managed to gasp, his knuckles white from gripping onto the side of the table.

Spencer couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, his voice raising an octave. "Who's that?" he yelled.

"Two hours from here. Too far." Mallon said before falling to the ground with a grunt. You didn't need an expert to know he had died.

Turning back to me, Shawn took another step forward, a hand reached out to me. "Lassie..."

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**Extended Author's Note**: So, This is going to be in 4 parts, each a different scene. Or at least it would make sense to me to be a different scene. Hopefully I get this done quickly and can get back to 'The Pineapple Saga, Book 1' and 'Losing Lassie'.

If you review, I will give you a great big bear e-hug. Because I'm great at giving those.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Thank you for the review, alerts, and favorite. It really does make this whole process worthwhile. This is a small scene, so I might write some more today. But who know, I'm really tired right now.

**Disclamer**: I own nothing.

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**At The Hospital -Shawn's POV-**

I sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time as I stared at the detective through the glass window. Lassie looked absolutely horrible, his usually vibrant, interesting, amazing blue eyes were now a dulled, boring color. But I couldn't blame him, he had possibly contracted a deadly disease that would kill him in less than a day. The man looked so in need of a hug, so miserable, so un-Lassie that it broke my heart a little.

"I think it's probable he contracted it. In this case he's gunna need the antiviral ASAP." I jumped a little at Dr. Reidman's words. I hadn't realized he had started to speak, I was too involved in looking at Lassiter. Glancing over at the doctor I stayed unnaturally quiet as I listened to him. "Based on my observations of the other patients, I've concluded that mask and gloves will suffice if you decide to enter the dragon."

I nodded as Dr. Reidman left to check on some other patients and leaned my forehead up against the glass in front of me. It was almost as if Carly-town was in a trance, staring forward, the same look of apathy written all over his strong Irish features.

Gus sighed and placed a hand on my shoulder, as if to try and comfort me. It didn't work. "We need to find out who Mallen was talking about when he said Victoria." he muttered, glancing over at Jules.

The blond detective nodded, tearing her gaze off of her partner. "It could be anybody. A girlfriend, relative, who knows. I've got every detective in the department looking into it. I just hope whoever it is has the cure." Jules sighed and turned back to Lassie. I could tell the news of her partner's possible death was hurting her, but I didn't think she could feel as horrible as me. After all, she wasn't in love with the gruff detective.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, concentrating on trying to remember anything about Mallon that could give me a clue. A picture of him at the lake with a cabin flashed quickly in my head, along with a logo I had seen on a box at his lab. Opening my eyes quickly, I turned to Jules. "Victoria isn't a person."

"What do you mean?" the detective asked, confusion evident in her voice.

I sighed, looking at Lassie again. "Victoria is a lake. Isn't there a lake Victoria somewhere around here?" I asked, pressing my face against the window once again. The cool glass calmed my nerves a bit, but not as much as I had hoped.

Jules nodded, finally understanding what I was getting at. "A pond, really. It's about 2 hours away from here."

The image of Mallon struggling to stay alive flashed through my mind, along with his words, 'Two hours from here.' That was definitely our place.

Juliet had gone on while I had been concentrating on the scene with Mallon, saying something about Lassie telling her he had gone ice skating as a child there. Any other day that would have brought a huge laugh and a joke out of me, but not right now. But I promised myself that if my favorite Head Detective got better, he would never hear the end of it. That piece of information was just too juicy to forget about.

"I'm getting a very strong hit that he has a place there." I said, pulling myself away from the window as Jules nodded.

"Let's go check it out."

I began to follow the blond, but stopped. Quickly turning to Gus, I glanced between him and Lassiter, my words coming out in a rush. "Ya, uh, Gus, uh, stay with Lassie and call me if his condition changes." If anything happened to the detective, I wanted to be the first one to find out.

Gus nodded, understanding how important it was to me. "All right."

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**Extended Author's Note**: Thanks for reading!

Oh, and I forgot to give anyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited a big bear e-hug, so I guess I'll just have to do that again this round.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** So, I just finished an English paper, and am not tired at all… I think drinking a 2-liter bottle of coke all by myself has something to do with that… so I thought, why not do a little writing while I'm up?  
And I would like to thank everyone for his or her reviews. I know that I thanked everyone individually, but I wanted to do it publicly.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except the coke I drank. And my dad bought it, so I don't even own that.

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**At The Cabin –Juliet's POV-**

It had taken two hours to drive to Mallon's place, and while I stared at the road ahead of me, I couldn't stop worrying about Carlton. What was I going to do if he died? He was my friend and partner, and it would hurt a whole lot if he passed away.

Following Shawn's directions, we finally made it to the cabin. It wasn't much, but there was something quaint about the whole thing. No wonder Carlton had decided to figure skate here. Too bad I couldn't spend more time looking at it.

"Apparently Mallon bought this place about 10 years ago." I said, continuing to stare at it.

Shawn nodded, glancing over at me before returning his gaze to the house. "That makes perfect sense. He stashed a bunch of the cure up here knowing it would be the perfect hideout after he released the virus. We should… we should creep around back."

I smiled at Shawn, placing a comforting hand on the small of his back before starting off towards the back of the cabin. It didn't take a detective such as myself to realize how much Carlton's possible death was affecting Shawn. It was pretty adorable, seeing the psychic this worried about my partner.

Suddenly, a dog appeared out of nowhere, a huge, scary Rottweiler, and lunged at us, snarling. I immediately reached for my gun, a habit picked up from Carlton.

Shawn grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the dog. "Who are you, Lassie?" he asked, glancing over at the dog.

I laughed and put my gun away.

"Like you'd be complaining if I was," I replied, my smile widening at his blush. "I wasn't going to shoot it. Maybe bang it over the head with the handle, but not shoot it. And do you have a better idea?"

"Maybe," Shawn muttered, deep in thought. Suddenly, just like in cartoons, I could almost see a light bulb go off above the psychic's head. "Jules, does Lassie still keep all our softball gear in the trunk of his car?"

I nodded, reaching into my pocket and grabbing the detective's keys. I still hadn't convinced the chief to buy me a lime green bug, so I had been forced to grab Carlton's car on the way out of the hospital. But I had to admit; his new car was 10 times better than his old red Crown Vic.

Shawn grabbed the keys and ran off without saying another word. I didn't even bother asking him what he was going to do, I would find out soon enough anyway.

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**Extended Author's Note:** I am a strong believer that Jules is a Shassie supporter… because we all know she totally likes Gus, not Shawn. Even my younger sister agrees, and she doesn't believe in Shassie.  
If you guys would like to know why I thought Jules should think about banging a dog over the head with her gun, I thought it sounded like something she would do. Since in the episode 'American Duos' in season two, Jules talks about hitting a fellow cheerleader in the back of the head for stealing nail polish and being kicked out.  
Oh, and sorry it's short, this scene is a short one. Actually, the next two are really short too, so I just might stick them together.

Please review, it makes me feel all warm and happy inside… and want to jump up and down and squeal like the teenage girl I am.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Um... not much of an author's not here, because I can't really think about anything random to say.... Besides that I decided to add one more little short scene into this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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**At The Hospital -Gus' POV-**

This was bad. This was very, very bad. What if Shawn didn't get back in time with the medicine? What if Lassiter died? Would Shawn blame me for not being able to do anything? Glancing up at the detective, I gulped loudly. Sure, the man seemed calm enough on the outside, but I could tell he was freaking out inside.

"Whatever you do, don't panic." I said, trying to reassure him.

Lassiter turned to me, an eyebrow raised, eyes icy. "I'm not freaking out Guster." I shrunk back slightly at his words, feeling the full force of the man's voice and cop glare. How Shawn felt attracted to this man and not intimidated, I didn't know.

"Because it's normal if you do." I replied, trying to sound more more calm and assertive than I really felt, hoping it would help. Lassiter liked people being assertive, right? Not passive and weak.

The detective rolled his eyes and sighed. "Guster, I think you're the one freaking out." His voice didn't sound worried at all, more annoyed and bored than anything else. Maybe he really wasn't freaking out.

I shrugged, trying to casually lean back in my chair as if I wasn't worried at all. But at the look from Lassiter, I could tell that he could see right through me. "Yeah, because Thornburg is freaky. But don't worry, it likes white people."

Snorting, Lassiter leaned back in his pillows. "You think O'Hara and Shawn are having any luck?" he asked, glancing at me before returning his eyes to the opposite wall.

It didn't escape my notice that Lassiter had used Shawn's first name, but I would think about that later. "I know one thing. If the cure is out there, Shawn will stop at nothing to find it."

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**At Lake Victoria -Jules' POV-**

Shawn hoisted himself onto the rusty gate, clad in every piece of padding he could find in Carlton's trunk. Looking over at me, Shawn smiled momentarily before falling to the ground.

"On three... three!" he yelled, running off in the opposite direction of the cabin. The dog instantly started chasing after the psychic, barking his head off.

I heard him yell, "Go Jules, run like the wind!" before I took off towards the house, trying to ignore Shawn's extremely girlish screaming.

**

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Author's Note: **So, there is my extremely short chapter, I hoped you enjoyed it.

Thanks for all the reviews, the make my day so much better just looking at them. Please continue to make my days wonderful!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Sorry this took longer than it should have, school is crazy. But I'll hopefully be able to update once more in the next week. GO SPRING BREAK!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Psych

**

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At The Hospital -Shawn POV-**

I was beyond breathless as I spend into the hospital. Running really wasn't my thing, and I already felt like I had done enough for a lifetime. But Lassie's life depended on me being extremely quick, like a cheetah.

While the scary Rottweiler chased me around the lake a few times, Jules had managed to find the cure in that mess Mallon called a cabin. It was even more cluttered and dirty than my apartment, and that was saying something. It was a good thing Gus had stayed with Lassie, or he would have freaked out.

Speaking of Gus, my best friend look up as he saw me barreling down the hallway. "Dude, did you get it?" he asked as I bent over, trying to catch my breath.

I glanced towards Lassiter's room, relieved to see that he was still sitting up in his bed, a bored look on his face. "What? Yeah, yeah. I got it, I got it. Uh, Jules is running it down to Reidman now." My voice sounded extremely breathless and forced. I shouldn't be this out of shape, this was crazy.

Gus nodded, also looking into the detective's room. "Nice. Are you okay?"

I glanced over at my chocolate companion and straightened up. "Dude, I'm doing great. I think I just had a life changing experience Gus."

Looking puzzled, Gus shot out a hand, trying to steady me a bit. Seriously, who got this tired after running for their life from a dog? "What do you mean?" he asked.

Leaning slightly into my friend's touch, I took a few deep breaths. God, my throat burned. "Yeah, I was... I was running. I was being chased by a very angry Rottweiler wearing, uh, catcher's gear, and I uh, I had an epiphany."

At this, my friend with a very amazing bald head looked even more confused. "Wait a second, the Rottweiler was wearing catcher's gear?"

I sighed, shaking my head a little. "No Gus, that would be crazy. I was wearing the gear." I replied impatiently.

It was hard to hold back a laugh as realization dawned on Gus. He sure had the funniest facial expressions. "Oh, okay. That works. Okay."

I took in a deep breath, my throat starting to feel a little better. But I still could have used a drink of water. "So I was running and I realize two things. One, I have a giant piece of been jerky in my front left pocket and I grab it and toss it and all of a sudden the Rottweiler doesn't care about me anymore. Two, I realize, in life we... we never have as much time as we think we do."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Taking in another deep breath, I pulled myself away from Gus. "I mean Lassie. I mean, all this time we talk, right. He yells and I tease him and I'm like, if something's supposed to happen between us, it will happen, just, boom, like magic beans coming down on me, right? But the truth is, my God, he could die today and he would never know how I feel."

I was thankful that Gus hadn't interrupted me once during my short little speech, though I know he had wanted to. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

I smiled and grabbed the mask that was around my friend's throat. "I'm going to do this." I placed the mask over my mouth and made my way over to the door, smiling at Gus once more before walking into the room.

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**In The Hospital -Gus POV-**

I watched Shawn walk into the room and sighed slightly. Sure, I loved the fact that after 4 years Shawn was finally going to tell Detective Lassiter how he felt, but I really didn't feel like moving. And after the detective found out that the fake psychic was in love with him, that was exactly what we were going to have to do.

The minute Shawn entered the room, I thought I saw Lassiter perk up a bit, but it had to have been in my imagination. I was so absorbed with watching their silent conversation, I didn't notice Dr. Reidman creep up behind me.

"Good news puffy."

I jumped, ready to either scream like a (manly) little girl or slap someone across the face. When I realized that it was the doctor and not some random hobo, I relaxed a bit. "Yeah, I heard, they got the cure."

The doctor seemed shocked at the news. "I hadn't heard that. But it doesn't matter anyway. Detective Lassiter doesn't have Thronburg." Dr. Reidman added, glancing over at the pair in the room.

I instantly perked up. Shawn and I wouldn't have to move after all. Well, first I would have to stop Shawn from telling Lassiter everything. "Really?" I asked, barely holding in my excitement.

Dr. Reidman nodded, continuing to stare at Lassiter. "The test came back negative. He's got quite the immune system."

"That's incredible." I muttered under my breath before turning back to the doctor. "Do you mind of I'm the first to tell him?"

The man shook his head, glancing at me for a fraction of a second. "Be my guest."

"Great." I said, practically running towards the door.

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**Extended Author's Note: **Thanks for reading, I hope it is as good as the last chapters. Only one more chapter to go and this will be done!

Reviews are like biting into a sweet and juicy pineapple, they make me all happy inside.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** So, the last chapter. And the first story which I've actually completed. This feels amazing! YAY!  
Make sure to check out the sorta sequel to this, What Should Have Happened in 'Mr. Yin Presents'  
And I would like to thank invisalite for all of her help. She is the best editor-pal-thingy ever. And she knows all about grammar in quotations, which I suck at.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Psych.

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**At The Hospital -Lassie's POV-**

Spencer had been trying to tell me something for the past 3 minutes, but kept getting sidetracked, even more so than usual. Several times I had wanted yelled at him to get on with whatever it was, but had stopped myself. There was just something so earnest and cute (though I would never admit that out loud) about the 'psychic's' face that made me shut my mouth every time.

Finally growing tired of the man's random rant about how the price of grapes had skyrocketed after the earthquake in Chile, I decided to tell Spencer to get to the point when his best friend barged in through the door.

"Excuse me, Shawn?" the black man asked, relief and joy clearly evident on his face. Though for what reasons, I was unsure.

Spencer turned to Guster and sighed, though not very noticeably. "Not now Gus."

My gaze followed the conversation, and it somewhat reminded me of a game of ping-pong or tennis. Though I had never played either of those non-manly games in my life, just like how I had never figure skated as a kid.

"Can it wait? I'm about to tell Carlton something important. Why don't you go down to the cafeteria ad get us some tri-colored jello?" My head shot up as Spencer used my first name. When the hell had I gone and given him that right? Only certain people whom I respected were able to call me Carlton. Oh, Spencer was so going to get it once I was better. If I ever was going to get better.

Guster rolled his eyes, obviously exasperated.

"Shawn," he said, clearly wanting to either hit the man or hug him. With the pharmaceutical rep, one could never quite tell.

"Please! I've gotta get through this, come on man!" I had almost expected Guster to argue with Shawn again, but the man seemed to step back, at least for a little bit.

Glancing over at Spencer, I realized he had started talking again. "Lassie… the…. Look, Lassie, there are things you need to know and I have to say them." The younger man certainly did not seem at ease, he was even more jittery and jumpy than normal.

At this, Guster took a step forward, his face worried. "Lassiter, you don't have the Thornburg virus."

"What?" Both Spencer and I said at the same time. I glanced over at the other man, an eyebrow raised, before returning my vision to Guster. "Are you kidding me?" I asked, not believing my ears.

The man shook his head, smiling slightly. "No, Dr. Reidman just told me."

"Oh my god!" I yelled, my face breaking into a huge smile.

While celebrating my recovery with myself, I failed to notice the small little one-sided conversation between both Guster and Spencer.

"Oh my god!" I yelled again, standing up and grabbing Spencer into a huge bear hug. "I'm… I'm beyond happy right now. I'm not going to die in this disgusting robe!" Neither of us noticed Guster leave the room.

It took me a little while to realize I was still hugging the 'psychic' tightly. Coughing a little, I released him, looking anywhere but at the other man.

"That is so… that is so good." Wait a second; did Spencer actually sound disappointed that I wasn't going to die? "But I still want to say what I was going to say, if that's okay."

Shrugging my shoulders, I leaned against the nearest wall, trying to act nonchalant, though the hospital robe didn't help much. "Shoot."

Spencer took a deep breath before starting. "Okay. Uh, Lassie, uh, how do I want to say this… okay. You know when we were kids there were those cool prizes at the bottom of the cereal boxes?"

I cocked an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Ya. What the hell about them?"

Taking yet another deep breath, the Head Psychic for the Santa Barbara Police Department continued, "Okay. Well, there are… there are two kinds of kids. There's the kid who flipped the box upside down and opened it from the bottom and grabbed the prize right away. And then there was the kid who waited patiently and ate bowl after bowl of cereal until the prize just tumbled out on its own. And then there's also the third kid named Mikey who will eat anything, including the prize, but uh, he's not really important right now."

"What the hell are you getting at Spencer?" I asked, still confused.

"I didn't wait. I didn't wait for my decoder ring or my Frankenberry action figure when I was a kid. So what am I waiting for now? All I know is that I don't want to miss out on the prize."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "So what are you trying to tell me? Because as heartwarming as this story of your childhood is, I need to contact a few people that I may have said a few unkind things to because I thought I was dying. Mainly my ex-wife and her mother."

Spencer nodded, suddenly seeming less confident and assertive. Whatever he had been trying to say must have been really important. "That I…"

"Hmmm?" I asked, leaning in a little closer to him.

My face being closer to his seemed to increase Spencer's uncertainty. "That… I… I don't know."

Suddenly, before I could say anything, the door burst open and O'Hara came running in.

"Carlton! I heard the good news! Come here!" My partner ran to give me a super large hug, which I avoided the best I could.

As the blond-haired lady tried to find a comfortable place to hug me, I watched as Spencer left the room, his head hung rather low. Sighing, I turned back to O'Hara and managed to smile. I hadn't noticed that all the while she had been jabbering about how happy she was that I wasn't dead, or something along those lines.

"Ya, I'm happy I'm alive too."

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**Outside Lassie's Room -Shawn's POV-**

I hung my head low as I slowly walked out of Lassie's hospital room. Once reaching the door, I glanced back and saw the gruff head detective smiling widely at Jules. Why didn't he ever do that to me? I had way better hair than her, not to mention a better smile.

After making it out into the hallway, I sighed and turned to Gus. "Just, don't say anything." I muttered, my head still lower than normal.

Gus patted my back comfortingly and smiled sadly. "I wasn't."

Looking up, I noticed Lassie looking straight at me. I smiled, and I could have sworn he smiled back.

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**Extended Author's Note:** So there you have it, the end. I would like to thank everyone who reviewed or favorited or alerted. You made this all possible, in a way. Wow, now I sound like I'm giving an acceptance speech at the Oscars.

Every time you review, an angel gets their wings. _(I like that saying so much, I think I'm going to use it at the end of all my stories.)_


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